What's the use of a title?

They don't make it

the beautiful die in flame-
suicide pills, rat poison, rope what-
ever...
They rip their arms off,
throw themselves out of windows,
they pull their eyes out of the sockets,
reject love
reject hate
reject,reject.

They don't make it
the beautiful can't endure,
they are butterflies
they are doves
they are sparrows,
they don't make it.

One tall shot of flame
while the old men play checkers in the park
one flame,one good flame
while the old men play checkers in the park
in the sun.

The beautiful are found in the edge of a room
crumpled into spiders and needles and silence
and we can never understand why they
left,they were so
beautiful.

They don't make it,
the beautiful die young
and leave the ugly to their ugly lives.

Lovely and brilliant: life and suicide and death
as the old men play checkers in the sun
in the park.

                                                      

                                                                            Charles Bukowski

I definitely didn't deserve to die. I absolutely don't deserve it now.

That would be too much of a mercy.

I'm bound to live my ugly life, as a ugly person, until I'll be waiting for the death to come, lonely and probably with my mind molten by senile dementia.

I've gained all the lost weight.

I'm going to fast for 10 days.

And when I am not able to stand up from my bed, I'll smack me and cut me till the pain will be too much to lay there.

Answers to comments

Alice May: Hey Alice =) thank you for commenting, that always makes me feel less lonely, really. Yeah I know that feeling. I think I won't make a good anything at all. This actually makes me pretty angry at myself, cause sometimes, when I look around, I see that other people maybe are not that better. I can't follow their values, their hopes, their talks. Quite ironic that, although I'm the one with an eating disorder and ignorant people who don't go through this shit usually think that it's just a matter of looking pretty and wishing to become a model, I know a lot of people who are so more superficial than me. I've been quite skinny and I still thought (and think) that I wasn't beautiful nor a better person even being 89 lbs. But eating makes me feel dirty. And I'm tired of being the dirty. Being the wrong one. You asked me why do I feel like "the second choice". I think this has something to do that people have always had an interaction with me only when they had nothing better to do, and whatever relation has ended as soon as I lost even that little interest I had somehow generated in them (which always happens pretty quickly). I'm aware that if everybody finds everything more attractive than being with me, the fault must also be mine. I just don't know what I do so wrong. So I guess that I must simply be wrong. Consuming myself to death is also the physical translation of what happens inside my soul, and what I guess I deserve.